Changing The Hunger Games
by smj1811
Summary: On the day of the reaping for the 74th annual hunger games Katniss Everdeen finds the hunger games trilogy books outside her house. Now she is changing the Hunger games and things after it. (I do not own The Hunger Games or anything inside it! It all belongs to Suzanne Collins!)


When I wake up, the other side of my bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth, but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and crawled in with my mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.

I prop myself up on one elbow. There's enough light in the bedroom to see them. My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mother's body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten down. Prim's face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as a primrose, for which she was named. My mother was beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me.

Sitting on Prim's knees, guarding her, is the worlds ugliest cat. Mashed-in nose, half of one ear missing, eyes the color of rotting squash. Prim named him buttercup, insisting that his muddy yellow coat matched the bright flower. He hates me. Or at least distrusts me. Even though it was years ago, I think he stills remembers how I tried to drown him in a bucket when Prim brought him home. Scrawny kitten, belly swollen with worms, crawling with flees. The last thing I need was another mouth to feed. But Prim begged so hard, cried even, I had to let him stay. My mother got rid of the vermin and he's a born mouser. Even catches the occasional rat. Sometimes, when I clean a kill, I give Buttercup the entrails. He has stopped hissing at me.

Entrails. No hissing. That's the closest we'll ever come to love.

I swing my legs off the bed and slide into my hunting boots. Supple leather that has molded into my feet. I pull on trousers, a shirt, tuck my long dark braid into a cap, and grab my forage bag. On the table, under the wooden bowl to protect it from hungry rats and cats alike, sits a perfect little goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves. Prim's gift to me on the reaping day. I put the cheese carefully in my pocket as I slipped outside. Our part of district 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour. Men and women with hunched shoulders, swollen knuckles, many who have long winced stopped trying to scrub, the coal dust out of their broken nails, the lines of their sunken face. But today the black cinder streets are empty. Shutter on the squat gray houses are closed. The reaping isn't until two. May as well sleep in. If you can. Then I spotted something that looked like a package. I walked over to it to get a closer look. It was a package. It was labeled KATNISS EVERDEEN. I opened it. In it were 3 books. By the author Suzanne Collins. The first one was The Hunger Games. The second was Catching Fire. The third and last was Mockingjay. On all 3 covers there were birds. I felt an urge to go back home and read them so I did. I knew Gale would be worried but I would tell him where I was at the reaping. I got home and changed back to normal clothes and started reading The Hunger Games.

. . .

It was so weird! The beginning was happening right now except what would have happened if I went with Gale and didn't get the books. In the book, Prim got chosen for the reaping and I volunteered. A guy named Peeta Malark was the boy tribute. We were star-crossed lovers and we both won the hunger games. I quickly opened catching fire and started reading it. When I finished I opened Mockingjay and read it. Oh my god! Is this what was going to happen to me? I shook my head and laughed at myself for being so silly. Then Prim came to me. She was wearing my first reaping outfit, a skirt and ruffled blouse.

Strange, that was what she was wearing in the book. I shook the thought away, it was just a coincidence. Prim said, "What are you doing Katniss?" I hid my books and responded saying, "nothing." There was. Tub of warm water waiting for me. I scrubbed myself and washed my hair. To my surprise, my mother had laid out one of her own lovely dresses for me. A soft blue thing with matching shoes. That was the same outfit in the book... Ok this is getting really weird.

"Are you sure?" I ask, remembering what I said in the book. If she gave the same answer then it would be a REALLY big coincidence. "Of course. Lets put your hair up, too,"she says. She braid my hair. The same way she did in the book... Whatever. It's just a coincidence.

"You look beautiful," says Prim in a hushed voice.

"And nothing like myself," I say, knowing it was true. I hug her, because I know these next few hours will be terrible for her. Her first reaping. She's about as safe as you can get, since she's only entered once. I wouldn't let her take any tesserae. But if it happened like it did in the book, it wouldn't matter. She would get chosen. I knew it wouldn't happen like in the book though. The chances ARE ever in her favor. But she's worried about me. That the unthinkable might happen.

I protect Prim in every way I can, but I'm powerless against the reaping. The anguish I always feel when she's in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my face. I notice her blouse has pulled out her skirt in the back again and force myself to stay calm. "Tuck your tail in little duck," I say smoothing the blouse back in place.

Prim giggles and gives me a small "Quack."

"Quack yourself," u day with a little laugh. The kind only Prim can draw out of me. "Come on, let's eat," I say and plant a quick kiss on the top of my head.

. . .

After the meal, at one o'clock, we head to the square. Attendance is mandatory unless you are on death's door. This evening, officials will come around and check to see if this is the case. If not, you'll be imprisoned.

People file in silently and sign in. The space gets tighter, more claustrophobic as people arrive. The square's quite large, but not enough to hold District 12's population of about eight thousand. Latecomers are directed to the adjacent streets, where they can watch the event on screens as it'a televised live by the state.

I find myself standing In a clump of 16 year olds from the seam. We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the justice building.

Just as the clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. He tells of the history of Panem. Then he reads the list of past victors. In seventy-four years, we have had exactly two. Only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy is. He's drunk right now. Very. Then Effie Trinket goes to the podium. She says, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Like she says every hunger games.

It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always does, "ladies first!" And crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. She reaches in, digs her hand deep into the ball, and pull out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop, and I'm feeling nauseous and so desperately hoping that it's not me, that it's not me, that it's not me. Even though I should have been hoping that it's not Prim too.

Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothed the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it's not me.

It's Primrose Everdeen.

(A/N- So did you like it? Please R and R! Also give s suggestion!)


End file.
